


Un-Knowing

by kesktoon04



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Peter - Freeform, Peter Parker Whump, Whump, hurt comfort, spiderman whump, tony - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 01:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesktoon04/pseuds/kesktoon04
Summary: When Peter gets hurt, yet again, (since that seems to be the only thing I write anymore), Tony gets an alert on his phone and has to race to save his 'adopted son'. Lots of fluff and angst ensue.





	Un-Knowing

Peter can almost taste the victory. Every muscle in his body relaxes as he stares down at his handiwork. Five jail escapees who were in the middle of robbing a convenience store were tied up and gagged at his feet. All he has to do is contact the police, and he gets to swing home along the high of another win for the heroes.

He’s just pulling his phone out, still vibrating from excitement, when he feels it, something sharp and cold pushing into his side. His mind is slow to catch on for the pain is delayed, but then he feels it all at once, a knife being driven into his side by a sixth jail escapee who’s sudden appearance is a mystery to Peter’s wavering mind.

His knees buckle, and he collapses to the floor with a pained gasp. “That wasn’t,” he starts around panting breaths, “nice.” The second the words leave his lips, he’s falling forward and crumpling in on himself while paralyzed by pain.

The free criminal smiles down at him, and Peter can only watch on with darkening vision.

He’s going to die.

Tony has audio notifications for various things, most involving the kid, so when he hears a particular, shrilling chime, he freezes in his steps and his blood runs cold.

“That can’t be right,” he mutters, but when he pulls out his phone to sync it to the sound, his phone slips from trembling fingers, and he’s running to suit up with the grainy image of Peter’s rapidly dropping vitals burning hot in his mind.

Peter’s just come to turns with death when Iron Man bursts through a wall and takes down the now freed criminals in a flurry of punches and tosses. He’s moving so fast and his movements are so clipped that Peter has trouble following along against his fading vision. His side is completely numb, and he feels a dull wave of nausea tugging at his stomach. His eyes slip closed, but he jerks them open when a cold, metal hand shakes his shoulder.

“Don’t do that,” Tony snaps, voice slightly altered thanks to his suit. 

“Do wha-...?” Peter breathes out. Exhaustion is gripping at his mind, and he wants to give in. 

“Close your eyes. Sleep. Die. Don’t do any of that.” 

Peter blinks at the concern bleeding out from Tony’s voice. “Always… knew you… cared.” A hint of a smile teases at the corners of his lips, and Tony only shakes his head and scoops him up with incredible caution.

“How about you stop talking and save your strength?” Tony gripes out as he carefully exits the shop through the massive hole in the wall. 

Peter winces sharply. The movements are pulling at his wound that still has the knife sticking out of it. He wants to grab at the handle of the knife to steady it, but he can’t get his arms to cooperate with what his mind wants.

“Smart move keeping the knife in. Probably saved your life.” Tony says as he leaps into the air to start a quick flight back to Stark Tower. 

“I’m not… stupid,” Peter mutters. He feels incredibly heavy despite appearing almost weightless to Tony’s strong arms, and an odd chill is clinging to his body despite the warmth of the summer night. Not good, his hazy mind supplies. “Mr. St-tark… I feel.. cold.” 

Peter can barely catch onto the string of curses that slip past Tony’s lips for he’s giving into the inching darkness spreading across his vision. The last thing he hears is a strangled “hang tight, kid” before his mind shuts down.

When Peter opens his eyes, his pupils are assaulted by a blinding light that has him wincing and squeezing his eyes shut tight. Panic tugs at every inch of his body. This is it, he thinks. This is the rumored white light that pulls a person out of existence.

He’s dying.

He’s not ready; he’s too young. He hasn’t told Ned what games and figures he could have. He hasn’t told May how much he appreciates everything she’s done for him. He hasn’t-

“Peter?” 

Peter freezes. He knows that voice: Tony Stark. Figures, he think. Mr. Stark would be there to wave him off as he crosses through the massive gates of-

“Kid, I know you’re awake. The heart monitor is going crazy.” 

Awake..? Peter frowns and snaps his eyes open. He blinks against the light until his eyes adjust to reveal a hospital room. He glances around, eyes blood-shot and frantic, until his gaze falls on Tony sitting in a lounging chair pulled up beside the bed. “I’m alive,” he mutters along a breath of relief. “Holy sh-”

“Near death doesn’t give you an excuse to curse,” Tony interrupts, and Peter rolls his eyes. 

“You curse all the time.” 

“I’m an adult.”

“That’s a weak argument.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep and resting?” 

Peter prods lightly at his side and winces. He wracks his brain, but all he can remember is being stabbed then Iron Man flying in. After that, his mind is choppy pieces lost against a burning cold pain. “I almost died,” he muttered as a heavy weight of realization settles against his chest.

“I had it handled,” Tony says, and Peter drags his gaze back to the ceiling. 

“I should say thank you.” 

“Don’t make this a big deal.” 

A small smile tugs at Peter’s lips. He keeps silent, but the knowledge of how much Tony Stark actually cares about him settles as a comfortable warmth across his body.


End file.
